


Locked together in hatred...and love

by TheImpossibleDetectivesAngel



Series: Relationship Dynamic/Uni ficlets [1]
Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Other, Uni ficlet, a look at Louis' thoughts about his relationship with Claudia, and Claudia's relationship with Lestat, and his own relationship with Lestat too a little bit, death mention, new series to keep me writing during uni, relationship dynamic ficlet, tw child death, tw death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:55:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImpossibleDetectivesAngel/pseuds/TheImpossibleDetectivesAngel
Summary: "When Lestat first made her for us, for me, I knew she was a pawn in his game. A method of bonding me to him further. I couldn’t help but love her though."A small look from Louis' POV at his relationship with Claudia. Locked together in hatred, indeed, but also in love.
Relationships: Claudia & Lestat de Lioncourt, Claudia & Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Series: Relationship Dynamic/Uni ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969246
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Locked together in hatred...and love

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is the first in my new series if ficlets, to keep me writing fanfiction throughout my uni under-grad course that I started in September. I asked people on Tumblr for their favourite relationship dynamics from a list of fandoms, and though this is one of the most recent suggestions, it's also one of my current hyperfixations, so, here you are! 
> 
> Thanks to the lovely @lunarmultishine on Tumblr for suggesting this relationship!

When Lestat first made her for us, for me, I knew she was a pawn in his game. A method of bonding me to him further. I couldn’t help but love her though. She replaced the hole in my heart that my stillborn son had created years ago. A perfect porcelain doll, frozen at a tender age where she was seemingly innocent forever. She looked so like Lestat, despite having no biological connection to him, and Lestat was a vengeful angel to me – despite his childishness and impatience. So she was an angel too. Beautiful and cold, distanced from everything around her. Even her father, her maker, Lestat.  
  
It soon became clear, despite the differing connections she felt with each of us, that I was the favoured parent. She’d often sleep in my coffin – even when she had her own, she’d awake early and sneak into mine. She went to him too, but not as much. Lestat was never good at sharing. I was a good example of that. She would also often come to me when bored – I would indulge her in all manner of things. Whether it be a shopping trip for another doll, or a game of some kind, I gave her whatever she desired.  
  
I still felt tremendous guilt for feeding on her, causing her almost-death, practically handing her to Lestat as a weapon to use against me, but she was my daughter now. And I would not trade her for anything. The few years that we lived as a family unit were the happiest and most content times of my life. Lestat seemed to have been tempered somewhat in making Claudia; he’d become almost responsible. Teaching me had been very different for him – I was his equal in many ways, and he desired me with such a selfishness that he did anything I asked of him.  
  
Claudia was different. She had been turned at such a young age that she still had much to learn about the mortal world, as well as the vampire one. Lestat delighted in the different kind of teaching he had to do with her – the parental kind. He was almost good at it, in fact. He was soft with her, though not as soft as me, but would gently reprimand her or steer her back when she went off course. Although, this being Lestat, he did oft lose his temper and explode at her, which was never pretty.  
  
But sometimes, sometimes, I’d come in from an evening walk and find them together, playing the piano perfectly or playing a board game in the parlour or sketching one another in companionable silence. In those moments, I’d hover outside the room and stare at them, as if trying to take a picture of them in my mind. Certainly, if the technology had existed back then to take pictures instantly, I would’ve done. Lestat would get a small, soft curve at his mouth, and his eyes would sparkle with rare genuine joy, no malice in it. Claudia too, would have a beautiful smile on her doll-like face, seemingly at peace in the presence of her other father.  
  
She also made Lestat and I better – we were constantly aware that she was the next room over and would either not fight or fight at a quieter volume. Our arguments became less frequent too, and it was no longer just us in a large, empty house. We had another person to calm us down with their presence, to make us see sense, to bring us together. Sometimes I wonder what might’ve been if Lestat had not got so impatient, if Claudia had not become she hardened and clever by his teaching.  
  
Perhaps we might have spent more years together as a happy family unit, and I could’ve kept my beloved daughter with me longer. Sometimes I wake up and expect to find her small body nestled beside me, clutching a doll and my hair. Sometimes I swear I can feel the phantom pressure of her hand in mine as I walk down a street, or can hear her laugh at something ridiculous Lestat is whispering to her as we watch a show.  
  
It’s just me now, with neither of my angels. Both gone, left me to wander the earth alone. As I continue my daily walk down the streets of New Orleans where I have once again set down my roots, I yearn for my child to come back to me, sometimes for them both to come back. I miss Claudia with a fierce ache that is always present, just sometimes dulled by other pains such as hunger. And I sit and think about what might’ve been some days, which makes the ache worse.  
  
But, to face the truth, she was always a pawn in Lestat’s game. A tool of his selfishness, perfectly wielded for so many years to keep me with him. But he forgot that she was a person herself, and it cost him, both of them. All of us.  
  
On I wander in the dark, alone in my sorrow. To loose one child was unbearable, to loose two? It is unimaginable.


End file.
